45
by 9E-tan
Summary: On the psychoanalysis of IB student behavior. There is no room for men in her heart, because she's too busy doing her homework- all night long. KandaxOCxLavi
1. Statement of Intent

**Disclaimer: I do not own DGM.  
**

**Genre:** Romance/Humor/Drama

**Pairing:** KandaxocxLavi, AllenxLenalee

A thank you towards every reader and reviewer who has patiently supported me during my long season of hiatus. Due to school, there will be slow updates, as you know. But!

It has come to my attention that my work has lost all of its place markings, as well as have various plot holes, spelling and grammar mistakes, that are painful to see.

Enough to burn my very own retina. (What the hell was I thinking?!)

Feel free to comment and provide some insight so that this OC doesn't end up turning into a Mary-Sue (and yes, I'm cringing at the horror).

* * *

Statement of Intent

.

.

.

What made her decide on taking HL Chemistry?

...

No.

The first question should be, _'What kind of a naive, over-confident niner was she to have the mere thought of succeeding in the International Baccaleaureate? Pah. A final mark of 45? _

The glare of the 73 on the progress report did not disappear.

_No, Super Ego, not helping._

Maybe she should delve into the philosophical branch of Subjectivism- then, the horrendous mark would have never existed at all. It would be a 97 in her perspective, right? Anything that would stall her upcoming death.

Her parents would be most displeased- and that would be an understatement.

Fuyuko could just imagine the constant nattering about university applications and acceptances and scholarships- she blanched, collapsing on the worn pages of her textbook.

To add salt to the injury, however, was the disheartening irritation that refused to disappear by her side.

"Hey, a 73! That's a percentage higher than mine!"

She groaned.

_That did not make her feel any better._

The irritation did not cease his yammering.

"It's okay, Fuyu, it's the exam that matters! That's worth 76% of our external assessment, so cheer up!"

_That's not the mark that gets sent to university for acceptances._

And for the final blow, as all IB English literature would have it-

"And you still got better than me, so your future is bright!"

_You're the worst in class, you dumbass!_

Perhaps it was some symbolic meaning to commit suicide in search of a higher plane or something. Like Edna in _The Awakening._ Or Hedda Gabbler. A search for something deep within herself that would explain the invisible block that cut the sciences from her brain.

Nevertheless, to attend to the symptoms of the disease before it would infect her and drown her in misery-

"Let me sulk in peace." She glared half-heatedly from the comfortable crook of her arms at the white-haired teenager.

_Ah, yes. The scholarship student._

If Fuyuko was to do a character analysis on the strange being, it would be something like this:

_**Name:** Allen Walker_

_**Age:** 17_

**_Significance of Character: _**

_Allen Walker is an albino teenager who attends Black Order Academy. His white hair is a symbolic representation of purity; his stark contrast amongst the sea of black hair and half-asleep students in a small class of 12 is a revelation of the Christ-like figure-  
_

"Am I being psychoanalyzed?"

Said boy in question held up his hands halfway, sporting an expression of mock fear.

"No, but close."

_She would rather dissect his brain to see what made him so happy despite the disaster that was his report._

Then again, it _was_ Allen Walker- the infamous British scholarship student in Tokyo, Japan-

-and her sole companion for the past three grueling years.

* * *

_Dreary and dull._

Not that he cared particularly for interior design, but the ebony flooring was really pushing it.

Beside him, the red-head scoffed at the Latin engravings along the stone wall, tracing them with a finger.

"Didn't Komui say that his school was broke?"

Kanda did not answer- he was in no mood to entertain the annoyance, though the bright crimson seemed to be more pointedly obvious.

_Color contrast._

"Fine. Be that way. After all the effort I go through in order to brighten up your day, we just had to come here of all high schools we could attend, even though it was partially my mother's insistence and 'doing favors', but really-"

"Can you shut up until this is over?"

The red-head paused for a moment, scratching his cheek.

"Nope!"

Kanda rubbed his temples.

He would never admit being an idiot- but what other response was he expecting anyway?

_Rich brats.__  
_

"You do realize you're one too, right?"

A picture of serenity and coolness; it would have been more convincing if his hand did not twitch at his side.

"-and this is why your anger management counselor took away your Japanese sword."

"Lavi, shut up."

"_Oh-em-gee_, I can't believe Kanda-cchi called me by my name~ What will I ever do-_ sorry I'm kidding_ _don't give me that expression._ It's scary."

Just a few more minutes, and this whole ordeal would be over.

* * *

**A/N:** Cut drastically short, I know. But simplicity is a beautiful thing. A prologue, if you will.


	2. Cramming, Action, Slavery

**Disclaimer: I do not own DGM.  
**

**Genre:** Romance/Humor/Drama

**Pairings:** LavixOCxKanda

**A/N:** A lot of people may find the following chapters loaded with terminology, definitions, or some kind of school related material. If you can recognize any references, feel free to chuckle. For everyone struggling with their snowballing schoolwork- have hope. The light still exists at the end of the tunnel (oh wait, that's supposed to be symbolic of death, right? My bad.).

* * *

**C**ramming, **A**ction, **S**lavery

.

.

.

The menu for today was-

"Overdone sweet potatoes?"

Allen winced, shooting a look of pity at her starch-ridden lunch.

She grunted in response.

"If you keep waking up late, you'll never eat healthy." A piece of bread flew from his mouth and landed next to her elbow. "Oops. Sorry about that."

Fuyuko rolled her eyes. "This _is_ healthy. It's a root. Roots hold plenty of starch and starch is a necessary source of carbohydrates." She tossed him a paper napkin, and wordlessly, he accepted it.

"It's still not enough! You need proteins and fibers too. Look at my lunch; it's the perfect meal plan for a healthy high school student!"

She slammed her fist against her chest to dislodge the unfortunate chunk of overcooked sweet potato.

Her muscles must have protested involuntarily from the understatement- or was it an overstatement?

_No matter- her throat was still suffering from the burn._

"No, I think you have hyperglycemia. Ridiculous metabolism and all that."

He raised an eyebrow. "…Are you sure that's right?"

"…You don't need to remind me that I'm failing biology as well."

"…Gotcha."

_She still gets points for trying._

Their forty minutes of peace and quiet- or as much quiet she can get disregarding the various sounds of munching and chewing and gulping bombarding her left ear.

Her eyes betrayed her will momentarily, lingering on the skinny boy's stomach.

If anything was a proof of God, that was the existence known as Allen Walker.

_There was just no way it was physically possible to explain where all that food went._

"_-hours._ Hey, are you listening to me?" Allen's voice shook her out of her brief reverie.

"I'm listening."

She adjusted the glasses resting on her nose, using it as a diversion away from his clear grey eyes. Nothing romantically inclined, of course. There was no time for that. Fuyuko would be the prime example of living vicariously through the lives of fictional characters- the only sad part being, the majority of the text provided ended tragically.

Frowning slightly from the lack of attention, the British student nudged her shoulder. "Office wants to talk to you about CAS hours."

She scratched her head. "Reflections aren't due yet. Didn't we already have our quarterly check-ups with the IB Coordinator?"

Allen shrugged. "Maybe they found out you were lacking in one of the three categories?"

Fuyuko groaned. "I already have my Creativity hours from band, Action from cross-country, and-"

"..."

"..."

_"Komui..."_ Every single fiber of her muscles shivered involuntarily. "Not again..."

The scholarship student chuckled. "Just go check out what it is. Extra hours can't hurt, right?"

_Point taken._

Whoever thought it was a brilliant idea to enforce the completion of 150 hours of mandatory extracurricular activity would suffer when Fuyuko became a dictator. Extracurriculars should be pursued by the student's interests, not forced- in order to graduate-

Nah.

In comparison to the rest of the school, she could attest to the great amount of procrastination that brewed within her classes.

"I'll see you at the school front gates, then." After cleaning up the mess surrounding her seat, she tossed her bag over her shoulder with a grunt.

Allen grinned."If it's an impossible task, you know you can always ask me for help."

"Not over my dead body."

"Aww, how come? You don't trust me?"

It was funny how the first memory that popped into her mind was the traumatic experience of strip poker. _Not._

"I'll see you at the front gates." She ignored Allen's snicker as she headed towards the main office.

_From the tiger's jaw into the lion's den._

Fuyuko could already feel her heart rate increase.

Meeting their... eccentric principal was always a stimulant in the release of epinephrine- what was it- instigating the 'flight or fight' response?

Quite literally, every fibre of her being protested as she pushed against the large, wooden doors of Dante's first level of hell...

* * *

"Principal Komui, I'm here as you requested-" Her words died down at her throat.

While the strange and eccentric Coordinator was usually within the range of predictable (and predictable in the sense that his actions were strange but in a perceivable, understandable way), the somewhat bizarre and grotesque sight before her was something out of the ordinary.

"If you'd only _listen_, Kanda, it's nothing too difficult-"

"No. Come on, rabbit, we're leaving."

"Kanda, please, don't do this to your godfather, you're tearing my heart apart-"

"Stop clinging on to me. It's disgusting. And you're not my godfather."

His usually immaculate lab coat was imprinted with boot prints as he sobbed, (fake tears, most likely purchased from the local drug store) clutching onto a tall Asian male's leg. She felt a tiny prick of pity for the long-haired man; being on the receiving end of Komui's begging was pure torture. Enough to persuade her to do free work (but not enough, because time was an invaluable factor.)

"Is he usually like this?"

She turned around.

Behind her, a red-headed teenager stood- someone she hadn't seen before. Then again, she was mostly inside her classes catching up on work or sleep-

"Like what you see?"

She blinked without response.

The stranger's amused smirk faltered slightly. "You're not blind, are you?"

Her eyes lingered on the embroidered eyepatch hidden beneath his bangs. "Are _you_?"

"Touché." He chuckled.

"Kanda, please, you don't understand how important this is, you can't do this to me-"

_"Let go, you disgusting leech-"_

Their eyes were automatically drawn towards the center of the room, watching the drama heighten before them.

"Lavi Bookman Jr." From the corner of her eye, Fuyuko spotted the red-head extend a hand in her direction.

She gazed back at the scuffle in the middle, resembling something like the front lines of battle.

_War comrades who had lived to tell the tale of the descent of every man._ Somehow, it had a nice ring to it.

She shook his hand. "Fuyuko Li."

The initial joy of alliance was short-lived, however, as a pitiful yelp signaled the end of the struggle. Fuyuko raised her eyebrow at the sight of the sniveling adult, huddled on the floor, murmuring something along the lines of '... betrayal of Prussia against the Austrian Empire...'

She would have commented that it was Austria's refusal to acknowledge Prussia as its equal that instigated the Austro-Prussian war, if not for the stream of curses and angry shouting from the man-on-PMS.

"You bastard, watching from the sidelines as you leave me to deal with the pathetic excuse for a life- stop flirting with every woman you see!"

Straight-fringe snapped with fury, swiping at the red- head, now known as Lavi Bookman Jr., with a meter stick.

Lavi dodged a deadly blow aimed for his shoulder.

"I didn't think it would be polite to interrupt your affectionate get-together with Komui-" he swerved between two vases, cringing as the wooden apparatus cleaved the ceramic in two pieces, "-being the gentleman that I am." The meter stick narrowly missed the strand of red hair. "God knows you need to let loose all that pent-up issues, Yuu." A strangled cry emanated from the middle of the room as a Lenalee figurine was beheaded.

"L-L-Lenalee!"

Straight-fringe- or Yuu, if her deductions were correct- scowled. "Sis-con." Tossing the meter stick against the wall, he continued, "Send the bill for damages to the main estate. Don't bother me about it." He brusquely rushed past Fuyuko, pushing aside the doors without another word.

"Is he usually like that?"

Miraculously looking fresh as if a murderous berserker had not tried to assault him few moments ago, Lavi smirked. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper which he placed on top of her head.

"In another time."

He winked, and left through the doors in a flash.

* * *

Fuyuko checked her wristwatch.

_The whole fiasco happened in less than five minutes._

That was faster than the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet and their premature love which transpired...!

With a brief survey of the surroundings, her eyes settled on the whimpering principal who cradled a clay, headless figurine.

"Are they transfer students?"

She perceived a small nod.

_Well, that was something._

If they were transfer students, there would only be one reason the principal and their beloved IB Coordinator would call her here.

Her mind flashed back to the mental ward case and attendee.

"Do I get CAS hours for this?"


	3. Error: Lost File

**Disclaimer: I do not own DGM.**

**Genre:** Romance/Humor/Drama

**Pairings:** LavixOCxKanda

**A/N:** Determined to finish this even if there are other priorities. Don't worry, people- it's getting there.

* * *

Error: Lost File

.

.

.

This was bad.

Very, _very_ bad.

She didn't have time for this.

The inside of her mind ran something along the lines of the following:

_[Error: Overload]_

_[Error: System Malfunction]_

_[Error: System Shut-Down Commence?]_

No no no no _no_.

There was _no time_ for system shut down, no matter how tempting the offer stood. Like the Forbidden Fruit [of knowledge, depending on texts].

Although going off tangent, God would probably not have to worry about her chasing after forbidden things- her procrastination habits would push such plans far into the distant future. Her agenda would give Satan's a run for his money- and that would be saying something, since what else could he do stuck at the ninth level of Hell in _Dante's Inferno_?

She shook her head.

_Stop getting distracted. _

_..._She really needed to stop daydreaming. Or falling into tangents. Dozing off into a reverie- oh, sleep was a wonderful thing. When was the last time she had a full 7 hours of sleep?

A better question would be- why was she always stuck in this dreaded cycle of self-torture and panic?

Why?!

She held back a choked sob.

Maybe Allen was right- maybe she was a closet masochist.

_…__Never._

There was so much work-

_[System Alert: Panic Attack]_

_[System Alert: Terror Induced Sobbing]_

...

_Fuyuko does murder sleep; Fuyuko shall sleep no more._

* * *

"You know, Yuu, if our guide doesn't arrive in the next five minutes, it means we've been officially stood up."

Kanda paid the redhead no heed.

Not discouraged at the least in being ignored, Lavi continued, "Yuu, it means we've been stood up. By a _girl_."

"…Stop calling me that, idiot."

"Yuu, this marks the first time you've waited for a girl." When the remark triggered no positive response, Lavi tried, "Your prideful, vain heart has been crushed in waiting outside, in the cold autumn air, for 30 minutes- and for a girl, no less. How d'you feel, mate?"

"I feel like crushing your head."

"Ah, how beautiful! That's more than four syllables!"

Evading the swing of a leather bookbag with practiced ease, the red-headed male fiddled with the keys of his cellphone.

"Let's see here… if Komui's strange blubbering made any sense, we should have met our 'beautiful and kind' hostess in front of the school's monument…" An emerald eye drifted lazily towards the towering statue of a ferocious lion bearing a crown upon its head. "There can't be anything other than the lion that would be such an obvious landmark, right?" He mused.

Snorting at the deadpan expression on Kanda's face, Lavi turned back to his phone. "I'm just trying to delude myself into believing that our _dearest_ long-distant related-_somehow_-in-the-grander-aspect-of-life cousin would not let his sister complex fester into something horrendous as to create a life-sized replica of her being and designate as the centrepiece of the school garden."

This time, the absence of words proved to be a little too out of his personal comfort zone. Lavi's tentative grin faltered slightly.

"…Right…?"

Kanda shot him a deadpan look. "No shit, Sherlock."

Slumping onto the granite bench situated near the lion statue, Lavi groaned. "…I didn't hear anything."

Still silence.

Lavi threw his arms into the air. "I'm so bored, Yuu- save me!"

"No."

"Would you do that to your best friend?" He pouted for maximum effect. But as usual, Kanda paid him no heed, immersed rather intently on the bare branches of some strange tree.

"You're not my friend."

"But I'm your only friend."

"Stop being delusional."

"Ah, Yuu… You're no fun."

"…"

"Oh, c'mon, humor me a little, please?"

The Japanese student snorted as he stood up from his seat. "I'm leaving."

The expression of Lavi's face would have been worth the wait, Kanda mused, but he had other matters to attend to. Not to mention, the redheaded idiot's constant high-pitched whining was starting to give him a migraine.

"Wait, Kanda, you can't leave me! My manly pride won't be able to handle waiting for a girl all alone-" In a desperate, last-minute attempt, the teenager lunged for his friend's jacket- only to be smacked away by a leather bookbag.

Sighing, Lavi slumped back onto his seat, digging out another strange contraption from his pocket and attached it to his cellphone.

"Hold on, let me work my magic."

Though his back was turned, Lavi knew the Japanese male was rolling his eyes. That, or twitching in irritation. Either way, it didn't bode so well for him.

After a few minutes of frantic scrolling and typing, an emerald eye sparked with triumph.

"Found her! Told ya, no one escapes the eyes of a Bookman." Ignoring the disgruntled sound from Kanda, Lavi continued, "all right, let's call this baby."

There was a temporary moment of silence until-

_'The number you have dialed is not in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again later.' _

"…."

"…."

"Don't tell me… she doesn't have a cellphone…?"

* * *

At the school's infamous Westside garden, a lone figure stood in front of a rather inconspicuous statue.

It was difficult to discern whether the grand figure or the female was the real statue- from both of their stone-faced expressions.

Nevertheless, this lone figure- a female- was not the slightest bit amused as she stood, calmly observing her pocketwatch for the umpteenth time.

To any ordinary passerby, this female student would have seemed like a lonely muse, wandering the strange path of life, contrasting the graceful stone statuette in front of which she stood.

But Allen Walker, who was the said lone female student's (self-proclaimed) best friend, knew better- that inside the supposedly fragile and small physique was a swirling mass of chaos, destruction, and fury. Not to mention, there was something wrong with his left eye since the accident 10 years ago, but even without his supernatural eye he could detect the strange inky black aura that seemed to envelope his friend.

The British transfer student gulped, shuffling behind the tall green hedge.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned- and whoever left Fuyuko standing outside for 30 minutes (her precious study time she wasted on organizing the whole trip and sleep she sacrificed in order to cram everything else that followed) would pay dearly.

Allen would have told Fuyuko she should have left after the first ten minutes passed, but knowing his friend's stubborn qualities ('What if they're lost? It's better that I stay here and wait instead of all of us running amok!' or 'This is my duty!') and her inability to recognize a certain truth which had been nagging the back of his mind for the last half-hour…

He would have asked Fuyuko if she may have considered the fact that newcomers would not be able to understand what their eccentric (perverted) principal meant when he stated-

_"Meet at the central garden in front of the school's symbolic statue."_

But note 'would'.

He wasn't very interested in being on the receiving side of her fury.

….

Then again, his impish side wanted to see what would happen.

The albino glanced at his wrist watch. He could make it to the Eastside garden in about ten minutes if he ran, guide the two clueless newcomers to the gaping maw of terror, then retreat to his safer hideout and watch the show progress.

With a discreet glance to ensure Fuyuko was still standing in front of the statuette, the British transfer student began his own top secret mission, feeling much like the iconic secret agent of his motherland.

* * *

_There he goes._

Fuyuko snorted with amusement. Trust Allen to take the initiative- if she knew him as well as he knew her, Allen was most likely running to the Eastside garden to fetch the transfer students and direct them to their demise.

Allen would make an excellent general, she mused.

But regardless of the social hierarchy, there was no dismissing the fact that her fingers felt frozen, she was wasting time (technically, she brought _A Streetcar named Desire _with her to finish, but no one needed to know that), and she felt 'emotionally hurt'.

In short- she was going to be milking this opportunity for all it was worth.

Snapping the play closed within her hands, Fuyuko started off in the opposite pathway to the school's true centerpiece. There was nothing quite like the surprised expression that gave her a (miniscule) amount of elation.

_Besides, she really couldn't stand waiting in front of the mortifying marble statue of the principal's beloved sister. _


End file.
